You've Got Mail
by Troypayisbetter
Summary: She needed to know what was happening. He understood the comfort one simple letter could give. And she was important anyway. Because she was Johns. Didn't she have a right to know?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! Thank you so much for the positive reviews for The Force of Pain! Considering there was only one other story, I think I did pretty well. I don't really know how this came around…maybe I'll think up a better answer later. **

**I don't own any of the characters, or the world in which they reside. :(**

You've Got Mail

The fire crackled softly in the darkness as Sam made his way toward the light, his feet crunching over the gray gravel littering the island. He had been on the far side, twenty feet away up in the branches of the only tree on the island—an elm, his mind wandering back to a simpler time; a time before he was constantly looking over his shoulder for crazy, murdering aliens with gills.

Drawing closer, he could see the silhouettes of his companions, two of which were both curled, backs leaning against boulders John had brought over a few hours ago, breath coming in slow bursts. But John was over by the edge of the island, the tips of his shoes just hanging over the edge of the cliff, looking up into the stars.

Changing direction, he came up and stopped by his right shoulder, staring straight across the calm, fresh water of the lake surrounding them. The moon was full and bright, so close that Sam felt he could touch it if he reached up far enough, the soft halo surrounding it making it look ethereal, and the sight took his breath momentarily. Moonbeams fell gracefully from the sky, and the water glimmered as it moved in small, gentle waves. Stars twinkled in the water, and the reflections of the evergreens across the lake on the banks darkened the water to pitch black by the edges.

They stood in relative silence, neither acknowledging the other's presence yet sharing so much of themselves at the same time. The call of the owls around them soothed his frayed nerves, and made him forget about the trackers edging closer to their location with every second. Only yesterday had they almost caught up to them, and Sam still could still replay the exact moment that one of them turned and locked eyes with him, singling him out from the group. The howl of a lone wolf searching for its pack made his shoulders clench, and it wasn't untill he felt John's firm grip that he relaxed them. He smiled, before turning and heading back to the fire, his shoes crunching underneath him and he suppressed the shudder running through his body when John's fingers grazed down his back.

The fire was warm and comforting, providing the false security that he had desperately needed for a few nights now, and he stared into its beauty untill he saw John sit down across from him, his eyes never leaving the moon. He could understand why. Behind it, in the vastness of space laid the ruins of his planet. Shuddering, he lowered his gaze, before fishing his backpack from behind him and pulling out a pad and pen.

He held the pen tightly, rubbing his thumb along the shaft, feeling the familiarity. His father had given him this. It had been one of his favorites, and he had caught him admiring it several times before he had been given it as a present; for being_ the' best explorer any dad could hope for'_. He shook his head, clearing it before turning to a new page, the yellowed paper crackling under his touch. Leaning against his knee, the tip of the pen tracing the outline of his lower lip, he scrunched his nose like he did on every occasion where thought was important, his brain searching for the words needed to soothe one of the most important people on the planet.

"What are you doing?"

"My will and testament…I don't want anything valuable going to the wrong people." He smirked, and John returned it as he threw in another log. The fire crackled again, and sparks danced upon the air, blinking out one by one.

"No…really. What are you doing?"

"I'm writing a letter."

John looked intrigued, and leaned forward, cocking his head. "To whom?"

"Sarah."

He recoiled, his fists balling. "We can't involve her, not after working so hard to keep her out of the radar." He was fighting to control himself, he knew. But he also knew that John knew that this was what was needed.

"I know. Which is why I'm writing it and not you. They can track you by smell, and by now they know what your handwriting looks like. Me on the other hand…they don't give a rat's ass. She won't be endangered as long as you keep your smell off the paper. And I'm being careful. She won't know where we are…I'm not putting anything dangerous into this. It's just…she's as much a part of this as I am and she deserves to know what happens."

He frowned. "I still don't like this."

"You don't have to. But if I was in her shoes, I would want to know too. Hell, I'd be going crazy NOT knowing. So I'm doing this for her. She won't be able to reply, but that's not what's important. What's important is that she stays connected so she knows when to hope, when to pray, when to run."

"Hopefully she won't need to do anymore running."

"But we don't know that. And Six thinks it's a good idea too."

"Oh? Been sharing ideas with her and not me now are we?" He stood, turning his back.

"Doth I hear a slight hint of jealousy?"

"No!" He turned, lowering his voice when Six shifted in her sleep. "No. But I see you Sam. You're growing closer and closer to her by the day. And…I miss you sometimes."

He smiled, putting the paper down and slipping the pen into his pocket. "You haven't lost me as a friend. You're just being introverted and quiet…like I was. But now I feel more at home than I have for a while, and even though this is the most dangerous shit I've been in, I love it. I'm sorry if I hurt you John. I've just been overwhelmed and overly excited."

John nodded, smiling. "Plus, you and Six seem to be getting close."

Sam smiled, nodding. "That too."

They fell silent again, and John looked back to the moon. They stood like that for a while, neither moving, the sounds of lapping water, the crackling fire, and their breathing the only comforting sounds in the world. Finally, John turned, sighing. "You can write the letter. But please, don't drag her into this any more than she is."

Sam nodded, rubbing his shoulder, before giving it a gentle squeeze. "I wouldn't dream of it. You can trust me, you know?"

John nodded, taking his former position by the fire, and he found himself back in the same spot he was a few minutes ago. Flipping back, he took a deep breath, nodding once for courage.

_Sarah,_

_Hey. It's Sam. I just wanted to…well to write to tell you all the stuff that's been happening to us so far. We've been traveling a lot lately, usually on deserted roads and along open ground, and when the sun is rising or setting, you can hardly tell where the earth ends and the sky begins. We've all been getting along pretty well. Six and I are bonding quickly, and John seems to have assimilated to sharing leadership pretty damn well. _

_I can't tell you where we are. I can't give you an address so that you can send us back a letter. I wish I could, but besides the point that if I did your boyfriend would kill me I frankly don't know myself. Each day is just as long and difficult as the last, and there's so much uncertainty around that I don't know where we'll end up by the time day ends. _

_I'm going to cut to the shit now. John had some hesitations about me writing this. But I talked him into it because I think it's important to know what's happening. Yesterday they found us. We were driving through a forest, when they fucking blindsided us. The truck came flying in from a connecting road, and it almost knocked the truck over. You would have been proud though. The fight was like a mix between the Matrix and a Fast and the Furious movie. And I shot out one of the tires. Hopefully I killed one or two when the truck went barreling through the trees on it's side. But Sarah, I've never been so scared in my entire life before. And I didn't like the feeling I got when I saw death so close to us. _

_We're hiding now, hoping they can't smell us over the distance of water. But I'm not so sure it's working. Reset assured John will stay safe. I won't let anything happen to him. Besides the fact that he's my best friend, he's the only chance we have of thwarting them because as far as we know he's the only other Lorien with his abilities under control. Bottom line, retirement sounds really fuckin good right now, and with sleep being so scarce, you can bet I'll be playing catch up long after this is over. You're as much a part of this as anything. _

_I have to finish this now. We can't have the fire going all night, it's not safe. Here is a clue as to where we're headed. Write em down, and I'll try to send one with each letter, so you can at least track the general area of our persons. _

_Clue 1: It's near the hometown of the person who played Ariadne. _

_Hope that helps. I can't give you any more information, except that we're so close to finding Number 5, we can almost taste it. I'll be relieved when we do, but that also means more stress because as they come together more, the charm will start to stretch. And when they all unite, it'll break and they'll be able to kill whoever they want. _

_John says hi. He's been taking care of himself, I promise. And he loves you. He wants me to tell you that you need to stay safe. Don't mention him in public. And that he's been taking pictures with that camera you got him. They're turning out really well. _

_Stay safe. Keep your spirits up and know we're safe and he's always thinking of you. _

_From your friend. _

_Sam. _

_PS: Tell Mark where we're headed. Maybe get him to lead his father in a whole different direction if he can. We're headed into another place entirely, but anything he can give would be great. And tell him thanks for us. He was never really told how much that initially helped. _

_PSS: Burn this. If John's stench is on this, or if the police find this, it'll be the end. It's for the best, even if you're in desperate need to keep it so that you know what you're feeling isn't because of some really good, fucked up dream. I know how that feels, but it's imperative to everyone's safety that you do. I'm sorry Sarah. I wish I could tell you to keep it. _

_John has something for you. Keep this if it helps. If not…well…keep it anyway. Let him have some peace. _

When he was done, he fished out an envelope, carefully wrote out the address, and sealed it before layering a few stamps onto the front. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned to see John staring at him, a bucket of water in hand.

"You ready?"

He nodded, smiling. "Night John. I'll keep first watch?"

He nodded. "Wake me up if you hear _anything_. Got it?"

He smirked. "I know the drill."

"Good."

He doused the flames, sending them into total darkness and Sam grew uneasy in a second. Taking a few deep breaths, he stood up, grabbing a flashlight in one hand, and the gun in the other, hefting it up over his shoulder. Turning, he started toward the Elm again. It was the best vantage point anyway. He had just passed the boulder marking the edge of camp, when he heard John call for him.

"Sam?"

"Hm?" He called, his eyes scanning the top of the ridge on the bank opposite him, looking for the silhouette of big ass dogs and scary looking men.

"Thanks."

He didn't need to ask for what. He didn't need to respond. But he shook his head anyway, before moving on. It's what friends did for each other. And he'd keep doing it as long as he was in that category. John was settling in behind him, and he heard him sigh as he stretched out.

"Night John" he whispered, moving back into the shadows. Let them come.

**So. How did you like it? It's not over, but I don't know how long this'll go. So if you have any suggestions or thoughts, tell me. I'd love to try to incorporate it. Thanks again for reading. Reviews mean so much, so thank you for every one of them. Please continue to show your support through them. Till next time. **

**Troypayisbetter**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own anyone or anything. Everything belongs to Pittacus Lore and Hollywood. **

**A special thank you to Onyxx-09, Lil Scream Queen, I Am Number Seven, Live Like Music, and Bellarase. You guys reviewed the first chapter, and you made me smile so much. Thanks again, I hope I don't disappoint. Enjoy!**

You've Got Mail

When the sun started to light the peaks of the mountains afire, Sam tapped John on the shoulder, rousing him from his slumber. Sitting up quickly he whipped his head around, searching for the danger he thought was certainly upon them all. Scrambling up, he stretched, yawing quickly before realization gripped him.

"Oh Sam…you didn't wake me for my shift again." Guilt raced through him, and his eyes scanned Sam, noting the dark circles under his eyes.

He blinked sleepily, refusing to show his exhaustion. "It's alright. You hardly sleep anymore since leaving. You needed it."

John scoffed annoyance and concern showing on his face. "You need to sleep too. I'm not human remember? It doesn't affect me like it does you."

"Sure…keep telling yourself that. You're welcome though. If it bothers you that much though I'll skip breakfast and sleep a little."

John's lips thinned, a hand brushing through his unruly hair. "Fine. But I'm making you something to eat for the ride. Ok?"

"Deal." He yawned, laying down on the hard, cold rock. "See you in a few."

"Night Sam."

"Don't you mean good morning?"

"Shut up and sleep."

He nodded, rolling on his side and tucking his arm underneath his head. His body shook from the cold for a few seconds, and then he fell off into sleep.

Sarah

It was another day in Paradise, but for Sarah, the prospect of the beautiful day had lost its appeal. In fact, nearly everything had. School, once something she had looked forward to with the anticipation for hanging out with Sam and John had turned to just a task.

Yearbook held no excitement or freedom for creativity for her anymore. Instead, it was just another example of how much she had lost. The hallways were empty to her. Her friends were nowhere. And the pictures she took only confirmed it for her in black and white, the smiling faces seeming to leer up at her and laugh at her pain. They were gone.

In fact, the only pleasure she still had was in her freelance photography, although she found herself taking pictures in places that only she, John, and Sam had hung out in…and during it, memories flashed across her mind.

She found herself in front of her wall, staring at their pictures—one in particular taking hold of her eyes. Their faces were beaming, shining in happiness as John held the camera out to take the picture. She was squished between John and Sam, both of which held bright smiles. Wiping her eyes, she sank down onto her bedspread, before pulling the picture off the wall and holding it up to the light. Sam had opened up to her the day before this picture was taken, a few days after the Halloween Carnival. From what John had divulged to her in secret, Sam had had a tough childhood and his bringing down the walls surrounding him had been a huge deal. One she had promised John she wouldn't take lightly. And John. He had become so carefree after his secret was revealed. So happy that he finally had a real life. She sniffed again, rubbing the picture with her thumb.

"Sarah! Mark is here!" Her mother called up to her, voice straining from effort but Sarah just shrugged it off. She wasn't in the mood to come downstairs yet…let alone see Mark. Although they were now loosely friends, she wasn't ready for this. She trusted him enough with her life and their secret, but she was still more than uneasy with him.

There was pounding feet coming up the stairs, but she didn't care. She held the picture tightly, crinkling the edges slightly. The door opened up, and she quickly wiped her eyes.

"Sarah?" Mark stood in the doorway, uncertainty etched on his face.

"It's not fair." She whispered.

"What? I didn't hear you…are you ok?" He stepped closer, leaning in a couple of inches to catch her whispered voice.

"No!" She shouted. "I'm NOT ok! Sam and John are with a girl MUCH prettier than I am running from psycho fucking ALIENS that DESTROYED the school!"

Mark winced, closing the door gently before slinking onto the bed next to her, hesitating before gently placing a hand on her back. "It'll be ok."

"No…it won't. I HATE this. I HATE _them._ Why was it so easy for them to just disappear? Why hasn't John sent me ANYTHING yet? I mean..." she wiped her eyes again "I'm starting to believe that nothing that has happened was real. That I just dreamed about it and that now I've just woken up and wished I hadn't."

"Sarah…you know that's not true. As much as I wish that there was no John and that that looser Sam is still just a silent dork in the back of classes with his aliens…it's all true. They're out there. They care for you. And I promised I would protect you until they come back."

"He's not a loser. Stop calling him that all the time. If you knew what he went through…if you knew what they've _both_ went through you wouldn't say that."

He gave her a look, raising his hands palms up to her face. "Fine. I'm sorry and you're right. If you would just tell me any goddamn thing, then maybe I wouldn't say that."

"They aren't my secrets to tell Mark."

"See? You haven't really changed. You're still in there. And somewhere in your mind you know that they're out there and they care. And…no offense to Six…but I still think you're prettier."

She sighed, falling back on the bed and holding a pillow up to her face, screaming into it. Throwing it at him, she started to pull the pictures of them off her wall, crinkling them and throwing them onto her floor.

"Sarah!" Mark yelled, grabbing her arms and pulling her into his chest. She fell apart then, collapsing into tears. "Let's skip school today…ok? We can go walking in the park…or we can get some ice cream and see a movie? You used to love that."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"Anytime Sarah…common I'll leave and let you get freshened up. I'll be downstairs when you're ready. She nodded, moving past him to the bathroom, breathing deeply when the bathroom door had been shut firmly.

Mark

He waited untill the bedroom door had closed, before moving back to the bed. Stooping down, he collected the pictures, and placed them on her pillow for her to find later. Sighing, he fisted his hair and kicked her bed, which moved a few feet across the floor. Pulling it back, he sat down heavily and sighed, his mind in a whirl about how much his life had changed in the few months since John Smith had entered his life, before standing up and making his way downstairs.

_John…Sam…you better get your asses back soon for her. And you better take me with you._

Sam

He awoke to a kick in the shin. Sitting up quickly, he rubbed his eyes in bewilderment, his eyes searching through his fists for the attackers. But the only thing he could see was the lush greenery surrounding them and Six glaring down at him through firey eyes, a dangerous scowl gracing her beautiful face. A fire was crackling to his left and he turned, to see John glaring at Six before dishing food onto a flat rock which had been sitting near the fire. He handed it to him, and Six scoffed and backed toward the shore, kicking gravel as she went.

Sam felt a deep hurt cut through him, one he hadn't felt for a while and he took a shaky breath before half heartedly digging into his food—fish…how original—sighing at regular intervals. John said nothing all the while, throwing in more logs to the fire. He gave him a comforting smile when their eyes connected and he felt that surprisingly, that hurt just as much. Bernie Kosar was nowhere to be seen, and that unsettled him slightly untill he came flying midair across the lake, morphing back into a beagle and landing gracefully onto the ground. Wagging his tail, he came up to him, and his soft tongue assaulted him seconds later. He chuckled halfheartedly, pushing him away while laughing. _At least somebody is happy to see me._

John got up and made his way to the shore, and he followed him with his eyes. The conversation with Six grew heated quickly, but because they were talking through their thoughts, Sam heard none of it. Finally, John threw up his hands and stalked away, pulling the elm out of the ground and throwing it into the lake as he went. Sam scratched Bernie behind his ears, but Bernie shook his head and stalked away toward John, leaving him alone. He finished breakfast quickly, hurling the rock into the water in his anger before stalking over to pack his bag. The envelop crinkling in his hands when he grabbed the pad and pen made him pause, and he held it up in his hands, memories of last night flooding back.

Sighing in hurt, he placed it in his pocket, patting it twice before packing the rest of his things. John's suitcase was already standing against one of the boulders, and he placed his duffel next to it before going over and sitting on the ledge, his legs hanging over the side. He let a few bitter tears fall from his face—why he was this upset he still wasn't sure but it was getting on his nerves, but he stifled them when he saw John's shadow coming toward them. Sitting down, John leaned heavily forward, staring at the water. "We should be headed out soon. They have to have found our scents by now."

He nodded, burning a hole through the water to the rocky bottom.

John brought out a tentative hand and rested it on his shoulder. "Sam? I'm…"

He shrugged off his hand, before standing angrily. "Common. Let's go." He started toward, the rocks, gathering up their luggage quickly. Six gave him a dirty look as she passed, and he glared at her with hurt before stalking toward the edge, ignoring the stare John was giving him. It was going to be such a long day.

Sarah

The day went by fairly quickly after pulling herself together in the bathroom. They had gone out to breakfast first—a small backwater diner where the seats were empty and the waitresses quick to serve—where they enjoyed their breakfast thoroughly. Conversation had been light, and by the end the day didn't look as bleak as they had been before.

She had driven a while then, a smile breaking across her face softly as she pressed on the gas a little harder, and she laughed a little too, feeling freer than she had in two weeks. Mark had laughed with her, guiding her along when she needed it and they soon found themselves flying down a country lane, her hair whipping when the window had been put down.

Pulling over, she hopped out and started to run, her hair flying behind her as she went and her sundress whipping in the wind. Mark tackled her then, and the two went flying into the wildflowers. They landed in a heap, giggling happily in the wild grass, and she lay on her back, staring up at the blue sky.

They stayed in silence for a while then, dozing in the warmth as bees swarmed the flowers, buzzing lazily across the field. Finally, Mark spoke up: "Do you feel better?"

She nodded, breathing in the sweet scents around her. "Thank you."

He nodded happily. "Of course. It's my job now…kind of like Henri was for John I guess."

The thought of Henri brought back all of the hurt of that night, and she could feel from the way the atmosphere around Mark changed that he was feeling the same. She put a hand on his bicep, and he turned his head, his eyes swimming just like hers.

"It'll be ok…I promise."

She nodded. "I know. However bleak, there's always a beacon of light."

"Like John's hands."

She nodded. "Yes."

They fell into another silence, staring up into the puffy clouds as they passed overhead. Sitting up quickly, she gasped and breathed in the fresh air around her.

"What?"

"Can I go home?"

He nodded, grabbing the keys as he stood up. "Sure...what's your reason?"

"I just…it's been a long day. I need to go home."

He nodded, jumping into the front seat as she came into the side. He trusted her judgment, she knew. She just hoped that her intuition was right.

Sam

He had been silent for a while now, driving down the forest road faster than he probably should for the turns the old truck had to make, the radio blaring to create a barrier between himself and John, whose eyes periodically flickered between the maps and his face.

Six was slightly behind them today because she did not know exactly where the map was directing them, and Sam had the urge at times to slow down so that there was a chance that gravel could pelt her. But that was wrong. For some reason, through the hurt he felt toward her he still cared.

John was openly staring now, and he clenched the wheel tighter, his knuckles going white from the pressure. They stayed like that for a few seconds, he gritting his teeth and John staring before he turned the music down.

Sam turned it back up, glaring once before gritting his teeth again, staring straight out the window.

John turned it down, and turned to him, taking him in. "Sam."

"Drop it." He took a turn to the right, and John fell against the door with a thud and a curse.

"What are we doing?" He turned quickly to check on Six, before turning back and staring out the window, his eyes roaming the few scattered building along the main road.

"I have to mail the letter and I don't know when I'll get the next chance." He pulled to a sudden stop, and hopped out. He was back in the car seconds later, the letter secure in the box.

Pulling out again, he made an illegal u-turn and started back down the road, scowling at Six as she stared at him from the motorcycle.

Sarah

They pulled up to the house, and she jumped out of the car, running to the mailbox set among the hedges and ivy. Lillis were budding below, and already she could smell the faint aroma as she neared. Opening the weathered box, she pulled out the mail, riffling through them before her eyes settled on one, her heart leaping into her throat.

Shoving the mail back into the box, she slammed the lid, and hopped into the trunk of Mark's Ford, ripping open the letter with trembling fingers. Mark was hopping in now, his face screwed in confusion, but they light up in realization when he saw the handwriting. He had stolen enough homework from him to know who that was.

With trembling fingers she quickly devoured the note, before handing it to him with shaking fingers, tears already in her eyes. And then they sat together, neither saying a word. Thinking about John and Sam and Six…and about what was to come.

_Sarah,_

_It's Sam. I just wanted to write you to say that we're safe. The Mogadorians haven't found us and we're heading across State lines. I can't tell you much more than that. Just know that we're safe and I'll send more letters as we get the chance. I promise…I won't leave you in the dark. And I won't let Mark stay in it either. _

_There is still some secrets I have left that I don't want you to tell him…Mark I'll tell you myself…if he still wants to know. I'm sure you do already…I have no doubt John has told you and I honestly can't blame him for it. _

_Anyway…just know that everything that happened was real. That we're safe. And that we're coming back. We both care about you. And John loves you. _

_To Mark: I hope you keep your promise. I hope you don't disappoint. _

_To Sarah: Keep your faith. And your strength. We care and we're alive and we'll be back. And we both love you. _

_Till next time. Keep safe Sarah. Run if they come back…because they won't play nice. And Mark, keep your head up and your ears open. Make sure your father and his cops stay away from the west coast. And protect her._

_Your friend always,_

_Sam_

**So there you go! Second chapter! I hope it wasn't too hard to understand, but if it was I'll help out. As it turned out in this chapter, the characters pooled together and decided that the story was told in two parts. Sarah and Mark are a few days—as much as 5—behind Sam, John, Bernie Kosar, and Six. But that'll change soon, it won't stay like that forever. **

**Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. It means a lot. Till next time. **

**Troypayisbetter. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! Sorry for such a long interval between posts I've been really busy again and I had to take a rain check for a while. And then I got into the Lorien Legacies Role play. I'm Bill if any of you would like to know—I don't know why but ehh why not put it out there. It's a lot of fun and you can still join so…you should. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. If you guys think of any plot twists, tell me! I'd love to see how I could take your idea somewhere. And your name will show up right around here too. :) **

You've Got Mail

Sam

When they finally decided to stop for the night, the sun had sunk far below the horizon and the sky was caught in the last rays of light. Darkness was creeping into the shadows, and while he hopped out from behind the wheel his eyes scanned the edges of the clearing. Thick trees encircled them on three sides, a small trail the only way into and out of the clearing directly in front of them. Most of the trees were Birches, Firs, and Maples, so crowded together their trunks almost touched. Moss covered the floor below the dense foliage breaking off into sweet, soft grass where nothing obstructed the path of sunlight.

He whistled, taking in the beauty and ruggedness of the landscape around him, his eyes dancing over the faces of Four and Six. Six looked unimpressed and John looked glum, no wonder filtering into his eyes even as they swept the area. "I'll go get some firewood." Four mumbled, crossing the clearing as he spoke. He turned back once to look at him before squeezing through the trees, Lumen erupting from his hands. He couldn't help but notice that the night grew slightly darker.

"I'll go with you." Six spoke again, her accent thick in her voice from weariness. She turned to Sam, her eyes pointing toward the tents before she disappeared into the tree line, going the way Four had gone only moments before.

He sighed, staring between the trees and then the tents before turning his head to the sky and arching his back, growling softly. Both of them needed to get their acts together. They were seriously pissing him off now. He kicked the tire; hopping away when pain shot with blinding hot speed up his foot and through his leg.

He pulled the tents off the bed of the truck, throwing them onto the ground with a huff before glaring down at them with hatred. His whole body was shaking with anger. _How could they be so cruel? Six had been a bitch to him since this morning. He had hoped when they stopped for a late lunch at a diner that she had cooled down even a little, but it seemed that she hadn't if he could take the glares she was shooting out at him over her cheeseburger. And John. He hadn't even stuck up for him! He had thought that after all he had done that John would run to his defense as soon as Six had kicked him. And it seemed like he was going to when he came up to her at the cliffs edge. But he had stalked away soon after the fight had been initiated and he hadn't spoken once since they had left the island._

He threw the first tent out of its impermeable bag, scattering the poles and the canvas across the soft ground with a grunt, his fists clenching and unclenching as the tears fell from his eyes. A sob wracked his frame but out of fear of being heard he half stifled them and swallowed back his sobs, his eyes continuing to pour.

He threw a stick and jumped up, lying down on the truck bed and letting the tears fall.

John

He stalked through the trees, his Lumen a blinding white light like the headlights on Sam's truck. Twigs snapped under his feet as he moved slowly through the trees, breaking off thick branches with strategic flicks of his hand. His arms were almost laden with wood when he felt the presence of another in the woods.

Turning quickly, he shone his light into the face of the pursuer, only to hear the hiss and expletive of Six, who had backed up into a tree and was trying to shield her eyes.

"Turn it _off_ already dammit." She growled.

He lowered his hands, the light still illuminating the area around them. "What?" He growled, turning back to his work; leaving her in the thick darkness.

"Can we talk? We shouldn't be fighting."

He turned back around. "If your sentiments are the same as they were this morning in relation to Sam then yeah…I really think we do."

"Why are you so pent up on this anyway? He's just a human."

"No. He's my best friend. And you're treating him like he's not fit to wipe the shit off your shoes."

She scoffed. "Oh come off it. You do realize that once we're done with this we'll go home. And we cannot take him with us. It's easier if we let him go now. Before the attachment between you two is too great. In the end it'll just hurt you more."

"I'm not leaving. You should know that by now. I'm in love with Sarah. We're going to be together. Remember…we only love one person for our whole life."

"I'm not so sure sometimes."

"Which means what exactly?"

"That Sarah could change her mind at ANY time. She's only a child after all. Humans fall in and out of love like we move from city to city."

His mind was reeling. How _dare _she bring up their relationship? "Shut up!" He gripped his hair and half turned, his head snapping back, glaring. "Stop turning this whole situation on us. What's the real reason you hate Sam?" His eyes were cold but Six didn't back down.

She glared at him now, her face set. Her body was braced, like she was preparing for a great battle between them. "He only slows us down! He's weak. He's slow. He doesn't comprehend everything that we do and I'm TIRED of explaining over and over the concept s that come so easily to us. We have to stop whenever he gets tired…whenever he gets hungry. And he's depleting the small amount of money that we still have."

John glared. "Sam stays. That's final. Drop your shit you have with him and get over yourself. Sam's a part of my family. He's my best friend and I'm done with all of it. I'm going to try to mend this thing with him because I'm afraid that this is putting too much strain on all of this."

He left her in the dark then. And he hoped she stayed lost for a while now. Just to teach her a lesson.

Sarah

They had sat in the back of Mark's truck for a while, both of them mesmerized by the sharply crackling, yellowed, paper. Only the chirping of the birds in the tree and the distant sound of a lawn being mowed accompanied their heavy breathing.

Finally, after scanning the paper once more, Sarah turned her face beaming. Hot, fat tears were falling down her cheeks but she refused to wipe them as she pulled the letter to her chest. "Finally…they're safe! They're fine and none of it was a dream and—." She pulled him into a hug, laughing loudly for a few seconds before freezing, her laughter dying in her throat.

Pulling away, she stared into his eyes before smiling thinly, her eyes scanning his face. Hopping off the truck, she took off at a run up the driveway, throwing the door open and running up the stairs even as the door bounced off the wall with a bang.

Throwing herself into her room, she collapsed onto the bed, the breath leaving her with a whoosh. She lay in the bed, staring at the letter again. And then she noticed the photos lying on the pillow in a bunch, the stack toppled and splayed across the bed in a neat row. As fresh tears fell, she fanned them up, staring at each of them as memories of a time not too long ago flashed across her eyes.

The picture on top made her laugh. She remembered that night well. They had just come from a school basketball game, and she, John, and Sam had decided to go out for ice cream, choosing a worn leather booth in the back of the shop next to a plate glass window. They had just gotten their ice cream when they had been startled by the camera. She and John had been caught by Mrs. Witfield, who could show up out of nowhere almost uncannily—with an arm extended toward each other, holding their ice creams out for each other to try. John had his nose pressed into hers _oops she had miscalculated that one_—and she was licking his. Sam had been the only one prepared, and was beaming happily at the camera, his ice cream held firmly in his grasp. That had been right before the beginning of Spring break, before she and Sam had really grown close.

The next one had been just a picture of she and John, lying in their clearing in the snow. Both of their faces were pale, and their cheeks were pleasantly pink from the cold. Snowflakes were falling among them, and a few had caught in their hair as they lay together. And then there was a picture of the first day, when she had first met both John and Bernie…Bernie was just a blur in the corner of the photograph and even though John's head was turned she could still see him perfectly.

She stared at that picture for a while until she heard the floor by her door creak, and she whipped her head to see Mark standing there just as uncomfortably as he had that morning. She nodded at him, a silent consent and he entered, leaning over the bed to stare at the pictures.

"You miss them."

She nodded, brushing the pictures with her fingers. "More than you can know."

He nodded. "I want you to know that what I promised John and Sam…it's the most important thing I did in my life. I'm not going to try to get between you and John."

She nodded. "What did Sam ask you to do?"

He smiled. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

She smirked, briefly looking to him before looking back down again. "Sure.."

"I just want you to know… I'm here to protect you—and I'm here to be your friend and confident since I'm pretty sure I'm the only one that knows what happened that night."

Sarah nodded, flipping through the pictures again.

"I just hope one day you can forgive me and we can be…friends."

She looked up, seriously. "That's a tall order. And it's going to take some time. But one day…maybe."

He nodded.

Sam

The tents were set up, his eyes dried, and his breath calm. Lying in the back of the truck again, hidden from sight by the shallow walls, Sam listened to the night in the forest. Whoever wrote _Silent Night_ really had no idea whatsoever about what a forest was really like at night. If anything, noises in the woods grew louder as the sun disappeared from view. Owls were who-whooing in the trees above him. Animals were rustling in the brush and sticks were breaking and the lone wolf's call had joined with others…all culminating to a symphony of sounds. Four and Six had been gone for a while, and he wondered if they had left without him.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his flashlight and turned to a new page in his journal.

_Journal,_

_It's getting harder here. Everyone is at each other's throats and its basically my fault I feel. I don't know what I did, but Six seems to hate me since this morning and I have no idea why…still. She kicked me awake this morning. She's been giving me dirty looks, throwing the cold shoulder, and glaring at me whenever I make eye contact. I have no idea what I've done…and for some reason her actions hurt me SO much. And John…he argued with her this morning, but they did it through their Telekinesis and I didn't hear any of it at all. But he gave in pretty quickly and he hasn't said anything for me since then._

_I don't know what's wrong really. I guess we chalk it up to stress but I swear…if this keeps going I might be forced to leave. And if John asks for it, I'll go. Because I can't stand being in my first 'family' and then be rejected like this. And to think…Six and I had finally started getting along. And I could have sworn we were flirting three nights ago when we were Indiana. I don't know. I'm tired of it all._

_They've been gone for a while now. I don't know if they're off fucking…or yelling at each other…or making out or lost. I'm going to sleep in the truck. If this whole thing is over, I'll let you know. If not, then assume we're ok and everything's been resolved. _

_Sam._

Mark

He waited for a while, while Sarah stared between the letter and the pictures, lightly tracing them with her fingers. And he couldn't deny his fixation on them either. They were the last links between themselves and the people that disappeared. But soon her eyes were drooping and he was slinking out of the room, his hand resting on her shoulder as a goodbye before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

Back in the truck he let the tears fall, resting his head on the steering wheel. This was the end of any chance to get back with Sarah. But he knew it was right. Sarah belonged to John, just as Sam belonged, always, next to John and Sarah, embroiled with all of this _shit._

He wondered where HE fit.

John

When they returned, he found the campsite eerily silent. The tents were set up with a space in between for a fire. And the car had been moved back a few feet to help block the exit/entrance of the clearing. But Sam was nowhere to be seen.

Dropping his wood on the ground in a heap, he let his eyes roam around. "If he's gone I'm leaving you by yourself."

She rolled her eyes. "Like he'd walk back down the fuckin mountain instead of taking his OWN car." She placed weight on her hips, staring down at the ground.

"Sam!" He called, after poking his head into the tents to find them furnished with their beds, yet empty.

"Hm?" He moaned, sitting up from the truck bed, rubbing his eyes groggily.

"I…uh. Thought you had left. I was worried." He rubbed the back of his head embarrassedly.

He nodded. "I told you I wouldn't leave you. Not unless you change your mind."

He nodded, smiling. "I don't want you to go."

"At least not one of us." Six said, stacking firewood. "I wouldn't mind completely."

"Yeah well no one asked you." John growled. "I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings today. Can we just forget about it?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. It's over. I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder today." He frowned at Six, clearly hurt at her remark before stalking into the tent. "I'm going to bed though ok? All this shit has got me exhausted." He closed the tent flap, flopping onto his mattress. Things were still so wrong.

**So…tada! This chapter doesn't seem like it has much but it's actually really important. I hope you guys really enjoyed it. Don't forget to review to tell me what you thought, because reviews honestly brighten my day and can turn even the worst day a little brighter. If you guys have any plot thickeners or twists tell me! I'd love to put it in! Thanks again for reading.**

**Xoxo,**

**Troypayisbetter.**


	4. Chapter 4

John

He stayed up long after Six had gone to bed, listening to the soft sounds of the forest around him. Breathing deeply, he exhaled, watching as a cloud of moisture billowed into the darkness, floating off lazily into the night before dissipating amongst the tent. Shaking his head, he lay in the cool grass, staring up at the stars. _Sarah was probably staring at them right now. _ The thought brought him comfort; that even though they were so far apart, they were just as near to each other, sharing the same sight, enjoying the stars. He wondered if she was trying to find Lorien, like he had once tried to do when he was younger.

Flexing his right hand quickly, he shone his lumen onto the tent wall, flickering it on and off quickly while he scrunched his face deep in thought. _Were the Mogadorians really leaving Sarah alone? What about Sam's mother? Mark? _ The uncertainties crowding his head were starting to give him a headache and he moaned, his light brightening. Realization dawned on him that he would be waking Sam up, and he closed his fist, extinguishing the light and plunging him back into darkness. But it was already too late.

There was a rustling. The tent flap opened and Sam stumbled out, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "John?" He sounded exhausted—even after sleeping for a few hours. He looked around, confused and disoriented.

"Sorry Sam. I wasn't thinking. Go back to sleep. Nothing's wrong." He sat up, flashing a false smile while motioning toward the tent before lying back down in the grass. Hopefully Sam would listen and go back to sleep. Nope.

He shook his head and yawned again, falling into the grass next to him with a slight groan before laying down into the grass, sighing as the cold grass made contact with his warm skin. "What's up?"

He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head to the side to glance at the dark forest. "Nothing."

"_Right_…no really…what's up?" Sam turned his head, and he could feel his eyes resting on his body, searching him.

"Nothing…nothing. I promise." He put his arms above his head, sighing again and closing his eyes.

"John. I may only have met you eight months ago…but we've been through enough where I can tell that something's bothering you. Don't keep me in the dark. Tell me."

He shrugged, smiling to himself at how long he and Sam had been together. This was his longest friendship; his _only_ friendship. "I just miss Sarah…I guess."

Sam nodded, resting a hand on his shoulder for a second. "I figured you did. You've been a little down ever since we left Paradise."

He nodded. "I love her." And then everything came out all at once, like a flood. "And I worry every day that something could happen to her and I'd never know. That the Mogadorians haven't left and that they've done something to her. And then I worry that she'll wake up one day and realize I'm not worth it. That she'll go back to Mark and I'll get back and I'll never be able to get over it." He paused, breathing heavily.

Sam nodded, turning over onto his side and propping his head up on his right palm. "The Mogadorians haven't been messing with _anyone_ in Paradise. I would have found out. And you're an idiot if you think that Sarah's going to leave you. She loves you too much to ever do that to you. She's over Mark. He didn't have a chance after they broke up…and he _definitely_ doesn't have a chance now. Trust me. You're going to come back from all of this. And when you do Sarah's going to be waiting for you with open arms with a great job and her camera still around her neck."

He frowned as Sam's words soaked into him. "You mean when we come back Sam. And Sarah's waiting for both—wait. How would you know if the Mogadorians were in Paradise?"

Sam froze for a second, and he could see the internal debate going on inside of him. He waited patiently while he thought, staring back up at the stars. Finally, Sam sighed. "Don't kill me ok?"

He wrinkled his brow, turning his head again before turning the rest of his body and mirroring Sam's own pose. "Alright…I guess." He was getting nervous now.

"I made Mark promise something. And that something we both agreed we wouldn't tell you or Sarah." He looked nervous and guilty and frightened. Whatever it was wasn't good.

"What is it? Sam?" He leaned forward a little bit, holding his breath.

"Mark's been in contact with me every night since we've been on the run." It came out so fast that he had to dissect the words, breaking them apart. And as they did, his anger grew. _He had been in contact with Mark? He had been able to get in touch with someone SO close to Sarah and yet he hadn't told him? _ He clenched his fists, his eyes falling shut while he shook his head. "Sam…tell me you're lying to me."

Sam looked down, pausing for a few seconds before shaking his head. "I'm sorry John. I should have told you but I didn't want this to completely rule you. I didn't want this to totally consume you."

He sat up suddenly, startling Sam. Sam followed, his hands tightly clenched to his side and his face strained. "John…I'm _sorry_."

"Don't." He said, holding up his hand. They were burning hot and his hands illuminated the area. His loud voice and Sam's pleading one had woken Six and she shuffled out of the tent, messing her hair as she stood.

"What's happening?"

"Sam's been keeping in contact with Mark and he hasn't told us."

"YOU'VE BEEN KEEPING IN CONTACT WITH MARK? WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?" She shrieked. Thunder crackled into life above them, and lightening flashed in the sky. Sam jumped, but he felt no pity for him.

"How could you do this? To me! You knew how upset I was about leaving Sarah. You knew that the way Loriens love is different than the way humans do. And you knew how much this separation was hurting! And STILL you didn't feel the need to tell me!"

Six was by his side now, her shoulder pressing into his arm. "Not to mention how reckless that was! What if that's why the Mogadorians have been able to track us! Maybe they've been using the signal of that damn cell phone!" She pointed at him accusingly. "Maybe that's the reason we almost got killed two days ago!"

Sam's eyes were swimming with tears of frustration. "I didn't mean to do that! I was just trying to make sure that they were leaving everyone we knew alone! I was trying to help!"

"You were just afraid to leave everyone Sam! Grow some damn balls and admit it!" He was shaking.

"You're right because unlike you I've been living in the same place surrounded by the same fucking people for EVER! So I'm sorry if that bothers you a little."

"You're a liability here Sam." Six shouted, the sky erupting into a symphony of flashing lights and rolling thunder.

"I am not. I've helped out in so many ways."

"Like what? Six and I have done everything so far. What have you actually done? So you carried Six to the truck? So you blew out a damn tire. You're only here to decipher your dead father's maps so we can finish this." As soon as he spoke, he knew he'd gone too far. This fight would have eventually been over and done with. Talking about his father was off limits…just as him talking about Henri was off limits. He had just done some irrefutable damage.

His face lost all emotion. "Fine." It was barely a whisper. He looked up at them, staring between them once more before turning and stomping back quickly to the tent, throwing himself inside.

"Sam…" he trailed off at Sam's icy look as he came out, his pillow and sleeping bag tucked under his right arm and his duffel banging against his legs. Throwing his duffel in the back, he stomped to the front, shoving the rest of his stuff in the front before climbing in and slamming the door.

"Good luck John. I hope you don't get yourself killed." He shot Six the dirtiest look he'd ever seen come from Sam, and then he reversed quickly, his back left tire bouncing over a rock. Turning on the road, he positioned himself back the way he'd come, throwing something out of the car when he hit the brakes. Shooting them both dirty looks he stared into his eyes, which locked for a moment before he turned back without emotion and peeled off into the night.

"Sam…" he said dejectedly, the sudden realization of his actions hitting him. He had lost his best friend. He had gone completely overboard with the whole situation and his heart ached with the sudden loss. He stared at the spot where Sam had last stood, willing him to come back by just staring at the last place he had been. And then through the big, cold drops of rain that had started falling he saw the two lumps on the ground. And he remembered Sam had thrown something on the ground before he had left.

Crossing the camp slowly with leaden legs, he stooped to pick up the objects on the ground. The first was the crystal, still intact and glowing softly through the velvet bag. He could feel the other salts and rocks in the bag jostling beneath his fingers. The second lump was actually a set of two things. The first was the set of rolled maps that Henri had found. Maps that were Sam's last vestiges to his father besides his glasses. The thought alone brought bitter tears to his eyes. The second object was a blue, leather bound book. And when he opened it up, he saw that it wasn't a book at all. It was a Journal. Sam's Journal.

Mark

Shivering, he pulled his letterman jacket tighter to his body, leaning back against the siding of his new home. He was sitting on the roof, shuffling comfortably on the shingles above while staring up into the full moon above him, watching the soft light fall onto the yard and surrounding homes, unseeing to the beauty around him. He was too lost in thought for that.

It was getting rougher to lie to her every day. All she did when they were together was watch movies or look at pictures or read. And although they didn't always talk about what had happened that night, or about Sam and John there was an undeniable feeling in the air of both of them knowing something that nobody else did; something important.

His father was pacing the porch below him, growling into the phone, barking orders to a scared sergeant Peters. He felt relatively bad for him. His dad had been getting progressively nastier with every day that John went missing. And because Sam's mom had put out a missing person's report, his father was now focusing every second of his day on the kidnapping terrorist, as John was being called.

Shaking his head, he hid the grin—even though his father couldn't see it—when he heard that more patrolmen were being sent down toward Florida, his eyes closing in the pleasure of _finally_ lying to his father about something. The heavy clunk of his father's cane was growing louder, telling him he was especially cross, and he could guess why. Sam's mother was checking in every day to see if there was news, and she was becoming more angry and desperate with every call.

That was another thing. He wished he could tell Sam's mother that her baby was fine. But to do that wouldn't just incriminate himself. It would also put a stop to the most important mission on the face of the planet. That mission was, according to the brief explanation he got from John was to find the other four members of the Garde—what the hell was that—so that they could unite to face the Mogadorians. The thought of those monsters—and their pets—made him involuntarily shiver and he pulled out his cell phone, checking the time. Almost two. Time to call Sam.

Hopping back into his room, he shut the window and locked the door, before making sure the vent in his room was closed securely and blocked. The house was old, and you could hear any conversation in any part of the house through the ventilation system. Hitting 8, he sat on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot while staring at the clock, watching the seconds tick by. _So depressing_. He found it funny that he was calling Sam, who untill a few weeks ago had been the dork that he made fun of.

And then there was a click. "Sam it's Mark—"

"_Hey. Leave a message after the beep, and I'll get back to you, unless I'm finding some extraterrestrial truth. In that case, I'll get back to you once I'm rich and famous._ Beep.

"Sam. It's uh…Mark. But that was obvious so…" he trailed off, rubbing his eyes. "There's been no sightings of the Mogadorians so far. We would have known, neighborhood watches are in effect to look out for the 'strange men' as well as John and yourself. You two are_ very_ famous around here." He paused, and glanced at a photograph of himself and Sarah. "I hope you two are doing ok. And that chick too…what number was she again? Oh well. Come back soon to us safe and sound ok? I'll talk to you tomorrow. Sorry I missed you."

He hung up and frowned. Sam never missed his calls. Something was wrong.

**So tada! This was a heated chapter huh? Don't worry it's far from over as of now. If you guys have any ideas tell me and I'll put it in. And I'll give you guys credit for the ideas too…up at the top. :D Thanks for reading again, you guys are amazing and every review, alert, and favorite makes my day**. **I hope you keep it coming. I've got 12 reviews so far. Which is amazing, so thank you everyone. Maybe we can push it past 20 with this one? :D It's a big order, and I'm not ungrateful for the reviews I get I hope that doesn't come across like I am. I love my reviewers. Let's think of it as a challenge? **

**Thanks again you guys. I love ya. Till next time. Stay safe, stay happy, keep reading. **

**Troypayisbetter. **


	5. Chapter 5

**So…I'm back at the computer from a mission trip and I'm really happy to be back. Thanks to 17 who reviewed the last chapter. It was really great that you did. I just realized now, and I'm kicking myself for it, that I haven't been responding to reviews as often as I should, so I'm going to get better at that now I promise. I hope you guys like this chapter. **

**I own nothing of I am Number 4 :( **

Sarah

Cracking her eyes slowly, she blinked, glancing around the room slowly, her eyes following the beam of light as it shot through the window onto the wall on the far side of the room. Stretching slowly, she listened to the quietness of the morning, met with only the occasional chirrup of a bird and creak as her house settled in the foundation. Then she smiled.

It was Saturday; and she could finally be alone. The thought itself made her want to throw a party. Since the disappearance of John, and the 'kidnapping' of Sam, she had been constantly accosted by questions on all sides. The reporters wanted to know what she was hiding, her parents wanted to know how she was holding up, the principal wanted to know what she knew, the police wanted to know where they went. But today she'd be by herself. Mark had football practice. Her parents were on a plane to Colorado to make sure the shelter had been set up, and she wouldn't have to go anywhere near the community center, which was being used as a temporary school while the other one was being redone. She wouldn't have to deal with ignoring all the whispers in the hallway as she walked from class to class, her head held high while her heart sank farther into her chest.

And she wouldn't have to deal with watching Emily throw herself at Mark. Funnily enough, that made the least amount of sense to her. She had been going strong with Sam before his disappearance—or at least she thought they were going strong. And she had acted devastated when Sam had been pronounced Kidnapped. The Amber Alert had reduced her to tears for three days. At least Mark held no desire for the attention he was receiving; she could tell from his glances for help that he threw her when she passed.

Blinking, she stared at her comforter, unsure of what she should do. The fact that she was alone was overwhelming her. And the fact that Sam and John were nowhere near her made her want to just crawl back under the covers and seek the refuges of sleep. A voice in her head, one she hadn't heard since they left, screamed at her, saying _Why are you doing this to yourself? You can't just stop living because they needed to leave and you got left behind. LIVE! Go outside! Run! Jump! Take a photo! You've got a whole life ahead of you…one you should live to the FULLEST! _But she shook it away. A life without John was too much to bear, and a life without Sam always around made life too dull to function in. She would sleep in instead. She hadn't been getting enough anyway.

She had just settled back beneath the mass of sheets when she heard the first of many resonating chirrups just outside her open window. Groaning, she turned to the side to see a brilliantly red robin preening on her sill, singing to the sky as he cleaned. She debated getting up, and had almost drifted once more when he let out another sharp chirrup. She would have to get up to close the window. And if she got out of bed, there was no way she would be able to return to it. It never worked out that way. Trying once more to catch a few more hours of sleep, she rolled over onto her back, stuffing her head beneath the pillow. But the sound only seemed to increase in intensity, and with an angry huff she stood, crossing to her window. She was just about to shut it when her eyes adjusted and she looked out to the neighborhood below.

The sun had just broken above the trees, the rays spiraling down to pierce the filling leaves in the trees. Dappled rays fell to the ground below, which teemed with morning activity at its peak. She watched as the track team passed by on the street, huffing as they jogged, their feet pounding in unison on the crooked sidewalk. Cars passed intermittently on the street below, crunching over the fallen branches that had broken off their trees in last night's sudden storm. And the shrieks filling the air already alluded to the children below playing their games.

The brilliant blue sky and hanging clouds that looked more like cotton balls did nothing to help her case of staying in bed, and she stood by the window, watching the world beneath her for some time as her internal voice shrieked inside of her, before finally giving up. She'd go out for a little, if only to make her head grow silent. Throwing on a skirt and t-shirt, she crossed to her mirror, running her brush through her slightly noted hair, which crinkled and cracked under the brush's bristles before throwing it down and looking at herself with dissatisfaction.

"_You're beautiful._" How many times had John uttered those words to her? How many times had he determinedly demanded her to recognize the beauty which she held, but could not herself see. Sighing, she gave up on her appearance, and headed out the door, grabbing her second favorite camera as she went, and stepping out onto the porch.

It would be a new day.

Sam

The radio was blaring, the sound-waves pounding off his chest in time with his beating heart, soothing him slightly in his pain. The darkness that was encroaching the sides of the truck was complete, save the distinct cut of the headlights. Anger burned inside of him, and with another damn of tears about to break, he slammed on the gas, shooting ahead before slamming on the breaks seconds later, screaming as he slammed his fist into the steering wheel over and over again until his pent up energy had abated, leaving him empty and more miserable than before; at least before he had felt strong and indestructible. Now he just felt empty and weak, an emotion he always detested.

_Fuck him. Who does he think he is? Just because he's some big damn alien with some big important mission doesn't mean he has the right or the excuse to the fact that he changed for the worse. It doesn't mean he can go and scream the shit out of me because I've been trying to help. He doesn't even understand anyway. HE hasn't lived in the same old town for his whole life. HE hasn't been surrounded by the same people for longer than he could remember. HE has someone to identify with. I'M alone. I have nobody. I have to feel isolated and confused. And the one thing that I do to try to not only help him but myself is the thing he uses to burn me at the stake. _ _As if—_

He was broken out of his thoughts by his cell phone going off, the ringtone slicing through the silence of the car. Glancing at the passenger seat, he watched as the phone vibrated, dancing across the seat and slipping against the backrest. He peeled his eyes away before he could catch a glimpse of the name flashing across the screen, resting his forehead against the cool synthetic steering wheel.

There were only two people who knew this number. If it was Mark, than he would call him back tomorrow to inform him that he'd be coming home. Mark would have questions when he told him. He was naturally inquisitive, if he could take into account that he had broken into John's house, gone through Henri's computers, and faxed an anonymous note to the school _just_ so John would come home and answer his questions—but he knew that Mark would understand that it was too dangerous to talk on the phone, and would wait untill he got back.

When he did get back…that's when it would get rough. He had decided. He was going to disappear, go and live by himself in some new city; with a new identity and an even fresher look. It was time he started living for himself. He'd been living for everyone else for far too long. First for his father. Then for his mother and then his abusive step-father. And now he was living for John. When was he finally going to live for himself? Now. It was his time now. They wouldn't hear from him again. And he would make sure that John would never find him, if he looked. The hard part would not be in leaving, for he had almost no connection with anyone in the town, and truth be told, didn't much like his mother. The only thing that would be hard would be making Sarah let go. Mark would be no problem. He might dismiss it and give up without a fight, because really their friendship was based loosely on playing spy. They had no attachment, no relationship other than the bully and the victim. Sarah though…she'd want to know. She'd fight to understand, to try to pull him back to her. But he wouldn't tell her the reasons. He wasn't about to break up John and Sarah because even though he had hurt him…he had been his best friend. And he had gone through things that nobody else could go through. Things that, once over, made him more than deserving of a peaceful life.

The other person who knew his number was John. But after tonight, he would no longer answer him. Talking about his father…it was like talking about Henri. It wasn't done. And the way he had said it, full of reckless abandon, was something he hadn't been able to get out of his head. It had been so easy and so bruising. And he had smiled in satisfaction afterwards, as if he was proud of what he had done. He didn't think he could get past that. He had been acting differently anyway, ever since they had left Paradise. The perpetual smile and confidence that had always put him at ease had disappeared, replaced by wariness and depression. The few smiles he threw were to Bernie Kosar—almost none of them were directed at him, and fewer were for Six.

And he had been blowing up from time to time as well, his patience growing thinner as they drew closer to Number 5. He could understand why. The closer they got, the closer it became that this war was about to really start. And the fear that the charm had broken for all of them, not just he and Six was enough to drive anyone insane. He had never thought that he would leave John…not for anything. But even he, with all his forgiveness, couldn't forgive this.

John would be fine anyway. He had Six. And he had his powers and his father's maps and the stone. He knew his mission, and he knew how to stay out of the papers. He had been doing that his whole life. He'd be just fine without him—

He was broken out of his thoughts by a loud, metallic crunching sound, and the front of his car sinking down as the back swung up into the air. Grasping the steering wheel to keep him from slumping forward into the windshield, he shouted and whipped his head, gasping.

There was a Mogadorian soldier standing on the top of his hood, grinning.

John

He trudged back to the road, the parcels in his hand heavy bundles of regret and guilt. Everything he saw pointed to Sam, and he suddenly realized how invaluable Sam really was: he set up and took down the tents. He made the food…usually. He entertained them. He was his brother. He was the valet…although he hated to admit it, and it brought him shame to realize how true it was.

The dirt underneath his feet was quickly becoming mud, and the animals around the clearing were scurrying back toward their homes. Six stood in the middle of the clearing, in the same spot she had been in during the fight, staring blankly ahead. He was suddenly angry at her. She had been the driving force which had separated them. She had been the wedge which had slowly pried them apart. It was her fault. His grip tightened threateningly around the unwieldy objects in his hands, and he had to check himself as he drew near to her.

Seeing him coming near, Six rubbed at her eyes for a minute before turning around to face the deep darkness of the woods. Anger again filled him as he saw her shun him. What was she so upset about? She had gotten what she had wanted. Sam was gone. And he wasn't returning. Glaring at her, he sneered as he gently placed the bundles inside his tent, covering them with a blanket to protect them from the dripping, cold wind. "What are you so upset about? You got what you wanted."

He turned to face her, not caring that his clothes were wet and that he was catching a chill. She whipped around, and he was startled to see that her face was again contorted to an emotion that he couldn't quite put a finger on. A few solitary tears fell down her face, mixing with the falling raindrops. "You have NO idea about what everything has done to me."

"Oh shut up. I'm tired of having to listen to you complain and complain and PMS. Just…go electrocute yourself." He rubbed angrily at his own eyes, which were stinging with hot tears.

She rubbed at her eyes angrily as well. "Don't pretend to understand. Because you have no idea about what just really happened." And with that she stalked away into the trees, the rain intensifying as she disappeared. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knew the emotion scrawled across her face…and it froze him on the inside.

Sarah

The kids on the block were giggling when she stepped outside, and she smiled and waved slightly when they paused during their activities to greet her, smiling widely with shining, crooked teeth. Giggling, she snapped a photo before making her way down the walk and to the sidewalk, moving slowly while staring at the dappled light falling through the full trees above her.

The cool wind and warm sun rejuvenated her, and her small, tentative steps soon turned into wide, brave ones and she held her eyes open, a smile wide. She was suddenly acting like herself, so quiet and yet so alive and she snapped pictures of the beauty as she went.

She didn't even notice where she was going untill she found herself stopped in front of the same swing set that she had been sitting in during the Halloween Celebration. The same swing set, in fact, that she and John had grown closer in. The thought made bitter tears well up in her eyes again, and she turned to look around only to find that she was completely, and utterly alone. The sun fell behind a cloud, and the park was suddenly completely in shade. She shivered in her sudden solidarity, her heat quickening as she whipped her head around, looking for hidden Mogadorian soldiers in the brush around the edges several hundred feet ahead.

Sitting down, she sighed and rested her head against the cold chain link fence, visualizing John as he was the last time she had seen him; the last time she had pressed her lips to his. And that thought suddenly brought back Sam. And how alone he had been. How alone he still was now. Something told her to go home.

Picking up her camera, she jumped off the swing, racing off through the grass the wind blowing on her face and the physical activity. Her feet pounding on the sidewalk felt wonderful and she panted as she ran, her hand swinging back and forth.

Pounding up the street, she stopped short when she saw the mailman stop on her street. More importantly, she saw the crinkled, yellowed envelope with the messy scrawl. Sam's handwriting.

Mark

He was sweating, and he grinned as he pulled his water bottle out of his duffel, swallowing greedily as the cool liquid fell down his throat. Practice was hard today, and the unforgiving sun wasn't helping him at all. Running his hand through his sweaty hair, he checked his phone, grimacing when he saw that he hadn't missed a call from Sam.

He had just put it away when his phone rang, and he pulled it out of his duffel faster than he'd like to admit, ripping open the phone and placing it next to his ear in a second. He didn't have to check to know who it was; Sarah had her own ringtone, just as Sam had his own.

"What's wrong?" His tone was panicked, and he gripped the phone, waiting with bated breath for her response.

"Another letter" Her voice was breathy and quiet and the way she spoke made her sound as if she held the letter in reverence; which he couldn't deny was true.

"I'll be right there" he whispered when he could finally speak, hanging up without another word before stuffing his equipment back into his duffel. He waved his phone at his coach before grabbing his bag and running up the hill to the parking lot, throwing it in carelessly before starting the engine and racing off through town.

In the few minutes it took to get to the house his mind was in a whirl, thinking about what could possibly be in this letter. It was something big. But what he couldn't tell. And although in the back of his mind he knew it would only hurt his already stomped heart, he couldn't help but want to know. Every letter was another piece of proof that he wasn't crazy.

Breaking hard, he shut off his car, only realizing when he looked into the glass set into the door that he was still wearing his grass and sweat stained uniform. He pushed the door open, calling "Sarah!" until he heard her response and then he raced into the dining room, his eyes resting on the letter.

"Shit."

Sam

The Mogadorian smiled, and jumped off of the car, which fell backward, rocking when the back wheels hit the gravel road, slowly walking around the side of the car with a sick grin on his face. His own eyes were drawn to the Mogadorian's, but he fought the urge to look, remembering the ghostly images of the way his projected friends and family had looked as they suffered and died under the Mogadorian's imaginary hands.

His eyes instead stayed glued to the Mogadorian soldier's chest, his mouth suddenly dry and his palms sweaty. He slowly reached down, even as the Mogadorian's raspy voice filled the air.

"Human. You're efforts have been valiant, and if you had been a Mogadorian, you would be high in rank." His teeth glistened, and Sam was shaking as his hand closed around the handle of the gun.

"But you destroyed our transport. You destroyed two of our weapons and killed three of our animals. And I cannot wait to feast on your flesh." He smiled. Again. Resting his hands on the car door.

Finding his voice, he whipped around, pointing the gun. "Well then I hate to disappoint you, you son of a bitch." He fired, and he watched in satisfaction as the bullet passed through the open window and then through the throat of the Mogadorian. It screeched and stepped backward, as thick blood squirted from its throat before it blew into ash and fell silently, drifting in the wind.

Breathing heavily, he turned, his breath stopping. There were two more standing in front of him, grinning.

Mark

They scanned the letter, soaking in every word while trying to remember to breathe. They had been in another fight. The Mogadorians had still found them, even with his attempts to draw them away to the opposite direction. If it hadn't been for that lucky shot to the wheels, there might not be any more Sam and John. When the letter had ended and they were sitting in silence again he blew out his breath, leaning heavily on the couch. "So they're heading for Nova Scotia."

She nodded dumbly, her thumb softly ghosting across the page, feeling the words pressed into the page. He broke the silence, asking the question he didn't want to know. "What did he send you?"

She looked up at him. "I...I don't know." She tore at the envelope again, and sucked in breath when the picture fell into her lap. It was a picture of John and Sam, standing against Sam's truck with small smiles on his face and even though dark circles rested under their eyes they looked safe and secure. John was making a heart with his hands. That tore his heart again. Blinking, he turned and leaned against the wall breathing heavily while looking up at the ceiling.

Sam

Opening the door, he got out of the car with shaking legs, staring with hatred at the soldiers in front of him. They were glaring and he knew he was in for one hell of a fight. There was no way he was getting out of this one in one piece. He just hoped he'd be able to put up a good enough fight for him to kill at least one of them before his own death. It'd be one less that John and Six would have to face.

There was no wind anymore, the storm far up the mountain only concentrated where Six and John were. Instead, the air was warm and comforting, although the wildlife in between the trees were silent, as if they could sense with foreboding the doom that was about to befall him.

He shifted his feet again, and gripped the gun tighter, before stepping forward one step at a time. The two grinned, hatred in their eyes. They glanced at each other once, nodding in silent agreement before all hell broke loose. The one on the left jumped forward, while simultaneously the one on the right raised his arm, the gun already morphing to his body.

Pounding footsteps filled his ears, and he waited untill he had a better shot before he raised his gun and shot three rounds out toward the advancing soldier, striking it once in the shoulder, once in the chest, and once in the forehead. It stopped short, and collapsed, screeching as it fell before blowing away in a puff of smoke as it hit the ground.

He had no time to celebrate. The one left had raised his fully charged gun, the earth around him suddenly grayer than it was before, and fired. He had a split second to decide his fate and he dived to the right, falling heavily onto his arm, which cracked sharply. The gun clattered away from him as the ball of energy soared overhead, slamming into a tree behind him which exploded in a violent eruption of splinters. The Mogadorian was on him seconds later, slamming his head into the ground and he cried out in pain as the sharp, small rocks cut him.

Gripping the strong right shoulder, his other found the Mogadorian's neck and he closed his hand around it, trying to choke it off of him. His body was raised off the ground again, and then it had been slammed again into the ground. He tasted blood in his mouth and he groaned in pain as it sat on him; the son of a bitch was heavier than he had anticipated.

He could see the gun from the corner of his eye, and he tried to reach it, but he couldn't, and instead his hand grabbed a large rock lying on the ground. The Mogadorian was choking him, the air leaving him and it punched him, whipping his head to the right before another fist and another fell onto his chest and his face. He felt his nose break; felt the blood spewing from his nose. More blood was in his mouth now, and he spit it on the Mogadorian, grinning when he finally grabbed the rock. It was heavy and with his broken arm it hurt as he strained to lift it. A few ribs in his chest broke under another heavy strike and he cried out, tears blurring his vision.

The rock swung up with his broken arm, and it struck the Mogadorian in the temple, a shard imbedding itself in its eye. It jumped off of him, scratching at the bleeding eye, trying to dig out the shard, although in reality his efforts only pushed it in further. Gooey mucus was spewing out with the blood, and the messy slop fell down his face, making his once icy skin a disgusting, stomach churning pink. Giving up its efforts, it grimaced at him, before charging and knocking him over. He briefly had a vision of Mark charging into him like a linebacker in the 9th grade, and he grinned untill he slammed into the ground and his ankle snapped. It teared at his plaid shirt, and he groaned when it ripped off of him in bloody tatters.

The gun was next to him. All he had to do was grab it. And he did. But the Mogadorian was too close, and he wouldn't be able to aim at him. And so he slammed the butt of the gun onto the already hurt eye, and the Mogadorian shrunk away, screeching. It stared at him with pure hatred out of it's one good eye, holding the cloth in his hands. Aiming, he shot at it, and hit it in the arm. It fell over in a heap, screeching again. Grinning, he sucked in air, gingerly picking himself up from the dirt. His clothes were bloody and dirt stained, but he didn't care. He had won. And he hadn't expected that.

He crossed the ground slowly, resting against the car for brief intervals to collect his breath, which came in sharp pants of pain. He didn't know how long it took, but he was suddenly in front of him. He raised the gun, pointing it at it's forehead.

"Tell me what I need to know, and I'll consider killing you quickly." When it didn't respond, he continued. "Where are the others?"

"Dead." It said it unconvincingly, and he could see that it was lying through its bloody teeth.

"Where are they?" He ground out. "How many of you are left?" He cocked the gun, and shot it in the foot. It screamed.

"Three" it said now, glaring angrily. "They know where 4 and 6 are. They will kill them finally…the scum will be dead soon now."

He glared. "Not if I can help it"

It happened quicker than he could have imagined. It swept it's good leg, and it's foot connected with his broken ankle, sending him down to the ground. It hopped up from it's position, ignoring it's pain, retreating quickly into the darkness, his tattered shirt still in it's grip. They were going for John and Six. But he'd be damned if he let them get killed. Fuck that. They were going down.

**So hey! This chapter took a while, and was absolutely a beast to write. I had a lot of trouble with it, and I think this is the second version that you guys are getting. So I'd appreciate it if you guys took extra time to review this…because it was so hard. Thanks again for all the reviews and favorites and alerts I've been getting! You guys make me day with every review I get, and I can't thank you guys enough. I promise more regular updates now. So keep checking to see if it's been updated. :) Thanks again you guys.**

**Ps: can you check out BangxDitto's account? FF deleted it unexpectedly one day, and is uploading all the stories again. But they really deserve to be read, and they really deserve reviews as well. Check em out? Thanks guys. I love ya. **


	6. Chapter 6

**No animals were harmed in the making of this chapter. I do not own I Am Number Four, its characters, or pre-existing elements. **

You've Got Mail Ch. 6

Sam Goode

The yelp that escaped his cracked and parted lips as he tried to sit up in the center of the cold gravel highway was a sound he had previously doubted any human could make. The pain coursed through his body like the synchronized tide; ebbing away and growing stronger in time with the beats of his heart. Every time the searing hot grip of pain on his broken body dissipated he breathed a sigh of relief, a tear falling from the corners of his eyes. Every time the pain returned like a tsunami; sweeping over his body and he clenched his teeth so hard he thought he had cracked at least two molars already.

Above him in the darkness the stars winked at him, jovially glimmering in the moonlight as the night progressed. An owl in the heavy branches sung out a peaceful, haunting song which only brought the comfort of safety to him. If the Mogadorians were close the forest would warn him by the impending quiet falling like a blanket over the surrounding mountain cliff. His weak and shortened nails digging into the dirt and broken gravel around him, he tired once more to pry himself from the ground, a low groan escaping again from his cracked lips before collapsing to the cold road.

He could definitely tell from the swollen, darkened skin around his lungs and the pain that erupted in his chest like lava that he had fractured several ribs on his body. And from the way his left ankle bent to the side, he could tell that the bone had been completely severed. His right arm could bear none of his weight, and he was so weak that his left could not hold him up when he tried to get his bearings. Spitting bitter blood, he turned his head to the left and whimpered, his hot tears mixing with the congealing blood. He was alive, but he doubted he would be for much longer. And if the Mogadorians accomplished their goal, Four and Six would be dead, and their truck would crush his body when it came barreling back down the mountain road.

For only a moment, he let the thought of abandoning them filter into his mind. They had beaten him with their malice laced words. They had forced him to be the mule; they had made him set up the tents and fix the dinner. They had left him no one but Bernie Kosar to be his companion, and their anger and frustration was frequently turned toward him. But no matter how much of a bitch and bastard he thought they were, respectively, he knew that he couldn't let the fate of the earth be jeopardized because of a his insignificant feelings. If it was the last thing he did, he would save Six and Four and murder those animals that had taken away his father and ruined the only semblance of happiness he had ever known.

With the thought of revenge heavily placed into his mind, he lifted his swelling body off the ground and started to crawl across the road; what little there was of his nails breaking off among the hard dirt and small rocks. The truck sat idling where he had abandoned it, a dent in the hood shaped like a boot where the Mogadorian had landed only an hour ago. A recognizable song was playing slowly, static crackling in the background and drowning out the base guitar and drums as they sang out their melodies. If his body wasn't screaming in pain and he hadn't just fought for his life, the situation would have proved slightly…ironic.

_Like a gift from the heavens it was easy to tell_

_It was love from above that could save me from hell_

When his hand had finally reached the door he let his body rest, his chest heaving as his weakening lungs tried to suck as much oxygen as could be handled from the atmosphere. Cold sweat lay on his brow; and his hands were blackened by dirt, which became muddy as his hands grew clammy. There was a fight ahead of him now. There was no way around it. The Mogadorians were undoubtedly near their camp by now. One of them held his tattered shirt. There was only one way he was going to be able to help his friends. But that required him to climb inside the truck. That climb was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done, and although he could brace himself for the inevitable pain, there was no way that he could ever be ready for it. For the first time tonight, he was glad to be alone. He didn't want anyone to have to see or hear him as he attempted this. With a sound filled to overflowing with pain, he turned and placed his other hand onto the cold fabric of the driver's seat. With all the strength left in his exhausted body he hefted himself, the pain exploding from behind his ribs causing a long, drawn out scream to echo through the trees. The soles of his shoes were firmly on the ground. His broken ankle was sending shoots of electricity up his leg. His nose started to bleed again, and the sweat dripping down his face half blinded him. But still he kept going, his chin now lying in the seat. With a great effort, he lifted his left hand to the steering wheel and used it to stabilize himself, resting only for a few seconds to suck in some cold air before his right hand grabbed the emergency brake and he was pulling himself up into the front seat. His feet left the ground, and he pulled himself inside the truck quickly, sobbing as the pain flooded his senses. He was in. The relief was evident as his tears started to slow, his pain lessening as his movement stopped.

He lay on the seat, staring up to the stained roof. Bernie Kosar's scent was still heavy on the fabric, and he let it comfort him as his nerves settled and he regained his composure. But there was no time to recuperate. His friends could already be in the midst of a heavy battle. Gingerly, he sat up, leaning his back against the seat and closing his eyes for a minute; just long enough to close the door and lock him inside, before he cracked them open and shifted to reverse, taking off the emergency brake in the process. It was time for him to become what he needed to be; reinforcement.

Six

She kicked another rock, watching it hurtle through the thick branches and large raindrops into the darkness of the wood. This whole thing was a nightmare. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen. She wasn't ready for any of this. Katrina hadn't prepared her for this aspect of her life; hadn't talked to her at all really about anything except training and focus. These feelings were foreign to her. It was for the best. She knew that. Everything she did was aimed toward an end that was never for her own benefit. Everything except this fight, that is.

Another crackling of electricity shattered the silence of the night, the raindrops increasing in intensity as she let her own tears start to fall. She just….she wished she could go back and change things so that _this_ never happened. She wished with all her might that Sam Goode and Sarah Hart were never alive. Maybe then what she had always been taught to happen actually could. But no. That was the lie above all other lies. She could never wish that Sam Goode had never breathed. Wishing for that was like wishing for her own death. Unacceptable.

A sudden scream of rage from the camp made her turn, her heart freezing. There were other voices mixing with John's. Voices that made a lump form in her throat. They were saying something, but the crackling lighting and booming thunder were silencing the conversation before she could hear any of it. Taking a few deep breaths, she steeled herself for the battle ahead. The Mogadorians had found them. The battle was about to begin. Running through the trees, she narrowed her eyes, hatred seeping into her soul and mixing with the hurt already lingering inside her. She would kill them all. If not for herself, than for the future she could never have except in her dreams.

Four

Before, when Six had stormed off into the trees he had felt that she alone had been one hundred percent responsible for Sam's departure. However, as he slowly turned the thick pages of Sam's journal he couldn't help but think that this was somehow entirely his fault.

It wasn't Six who had said that Sam could come. It hadn't even been Sam who had decided he could accompany them on their mission. It had been him. And he realized for the first time in fact, that in the days that followed his attitude had switched from the carefree and benign attitude he had in Paradise to the fear, frustration, and anger filled one that even now he couldn't shake off. This was war. And war had transformed him the same way in which it transformed every human embroiled within it.

The pages of his Journal spelled out the fears of a human boy: death, loneliness, isolation, hunger. In fact, Sam's journal wrote out in fine details every single day they had been on the run since the battle at the stadium. And no matter how hard he tried not to, he could see….no. He could _feel_ the darkness that encroached into their lives. The adventure that had started out full of promise and gusto had quickly turned into a fragmented monster that Sam could not escape from. His long walks were not just sentry duty, like he had blindly thought; his long climbs into the treetops were not just to have an advantage over Mogadorians. His walks were his escape from the prison of his new life; the trees were when he contemplated suicide.

There was a change, however brief, which made him pause and think. At first, the happiness in the journal had been about finding a new family and the prospect s of seeing his father for the first time in ten years. Then it switched to the excitement of growing closer to Bernie and himself. That had been before the battle; before they were forced to leave the relative safety of Paradise, Ohio. Around the time they had reached Indiana, they had morphed again to a feeling he had never voiced but had suspected. Sam had begun to sprout feelings for Six. Sam began to grow jealous of the time he spent each day planning their next move. And Sam talked about the nights he and Six spent together as if he was in heaven. Sam had grown feelings for Six. And then she had taken the affection she had shown him back for herself and had left him alone with nothing. John had started to train again and had taken to working with Bernie Kosar to refine their techniques for an advantage over the Mogadorians. And Sam had been left alone in the dirt.

A sudden noise from the road had him leaping back into the rain. For a brief moment he had hoped that it was Sam returning to him again, and his name had even been on his lips until the cars had pulled up to the clearing instead. As they exited the vehicles, his hands had tightened into fists, his palms beginning to glow a dangerous white at his anger surged. Mogadorians. A lackey in the back raced to the front and said something to their leader in their ugly language, and for a second a hint of anger surged to its face, before a look of triumph replaced it. It took what looked to be a loose bundle from the lower ranking one, and then turned back to him.

Walking slowly toward him, he passed in front of the concentrated headlights, and the bundle became illuminated for a moment, however brief through the falling rain. And in the few seconds that it took to see the object his heart stopped and tears welled in his eyes. It was a tattered shirt; Sam's shirt to be exact. And it was covered in dried blood. The commander noticed the recognition and devastation on his face, and cackled, his lackeys chuckling coldly from behind.

"I see you notice, oh Lorien scum, the article of your beloved friend."

He tightened his fists, his knuckles cracking, and glared. "What did you do."

The commander seemed to find his reaction amusing and smiled, his yellow, sharpened teeth gleaming in the light. A bolt of thunder rippled across the sky, thunder booming just above them. "I want you to know, Lorien, that your friend was torn apart. Quite Slowly. He suffered. He begged. He cried like a weak thing. His blood was sweet though, and I particularly enjoyed gorging on his flesh after his last strangled cry had left his cracked lips."

"Fuck you." he growled, his arms beginning to shake, his heart breaking and a tear falling. _Sam…I'm so so so sorry Sam. _

"Where is the other piece of scum? It is time we finished this. Do not worry. You will soon be reunited with your cowardly friend again."

He let out a rage filled scream, full of his own anger and pain and he opened his palm, a beam of light with the intensity and heat of the sun shooting out and toward them. The commander dodged, a soldier behind him was not so lucky, and a hole was blasted through his chest, the motor in the car directly behind him exploding, sending flames shooting into the sky, and heat which dried him immediately. During the brief illumination of the clearing, he could see that he was clearly outnumbered. Twenty soldiers stood by the only entrance and exit. Behind them, two beasts snarled viciously. Although there was no point in fighting, he would anyway. For revenge. For his Sarah.

A sudden lightning bolt fell from the sky and struck a snarling beast, which fell to the ground where it stood, the crater in its head smoldering, green blood oozing from its fatal wound and pooling on the ground. The other beast began to howl and snap its jaws, fire in its eyes. Six was there. She would help him kill these bastards. He was expecting her famous battle cry. What he wasn't expecting was a howl of hurt and anguish, which he realized was her reaction to seeing the tattered and bloody shirt. And then before he could do anything else she was firing into the crowd. Bernie Kosar bounded through the trees and took out a few soldiers from the west, his form a malicious, pink lizard which sprouted lava from its mouth.

_Kill them Hadley. Show them no mercy this time. They killed Sam. They killed him and then they ate him. It's time that these scum learned they are not invincible._

Hadley reacted by scooping a soldier into his mouth and clamping down hard, flinging the lower part of the soldier's torso into the woods. Hadley was fighting for Sam. Four dodged a ball of energy, and watched it explode at the base of a tall Hickory, which swayed and then fell toward them. It hit the ground with a loud crash, knocking over the still roaring fire between their tents, setting alight the grass of the clearing. The tree afforded them a buffer but it would protect them for only maybe thirty seconds. The fire was a barrier for the battle now, and would force the soldiers to stay in the clearing, leaving them trapped between the two thrashing beasts and two very angry Loriens. The Mogadorians couldn't make them follow into the woods now. They finally had some luck in this fight. However, they had no plan. Hadley was leading the other beast into the clearing, toward the soldiers which scurried out of the behemoth's way. The monster lunged at him as Hadley morphed into the shape of the monster attacking him and they locked onto each other, pawing and ripping at each other, stomping into the ground and ripping up the ground in clumps. Their weight snapped thick trees like twigs and sent them crashing into the fire, further setting the forest into a raging holocaust. The fire was spreading, curving along the outer edge of the clearing where the trees were the thinnest and driest.

"Six. What's the plan?"

Six was nowhere near him like he had thought. She had not waited for the soldiers to scale the thick tree. Instead, she had bounded over it in one leap and was now stabbing and jabbing, her hair a blonde whirl as she fought with venom. With the practice and accuracy that his training had afforded him, he lifted up his palms and then had thrown his hands forward as if throwing a javelin. Out of the forest, a barrage of flaming branches and twigs flew like deadly arrows; striking a few targets. However, no matter how he tried, they always seemed to be ahead of them.

The earth grew so grey that it was almost turned to blackness, and then a barrage of energy balls were flying through the sky, vibrant colors against the white lighting, booming thunder, and black clouds. Six and Hadley barely missed them, however, one struck the trunk of the tree in front of him, and the resulting explosion shot wooden shrapnel toward him; imbedding themselves when they struck him. In pain he fell to his knees, panting, feeling the blood in his mouth. Six was by his side, Hadley had his teeth inside the throat of the other beast, which was thrashing in its death blows. Glancing in the direction the barrage had come from, he could see that a group of four Mogadorians were standing in a row in front of the three cars they had been traveling in, loading and powering up their weapons. They were beginning to get ready for another volley. He had to stop them. But he was in no condition to stop them. They were in bad shape.

Sam

The forest was on fire. Somewhere, Smokey the Bear was weeping. Animals were fleeing the fire, running down the sides of the roads toward the safety of the river at the bottom of the mountain. Pressing on the gas pedal harder, he felt the car lurch. Ahead, the road was curving. He was close to their encampment.

The sounds of the battle were becoming clearer the closer he got. He literally felt his energy being depleted from the amount of weapons the soldiers were using and he shuddered. This was going to be his worst nightmare. He had a feeling he wouldn't be making it to the end, not this time.

As he turned to corner, he slowed down to a halt. There were two cars idling in the entrance to their clearing, completely unharmed and looking as if they had just been bought at a car dealership. The charred and smoldering frame of a third lay on its side directly in front of the other two. This was going to hurt. He put the car in park, then hit the gas pedal until it could go no further, the car revving and grinding, dirt and debris shooting from underneath the tires. A few of the soldiers were turning to see what the noise was. Four soldiers directly in front of the wreckage of the first car were powering up their weapons. Six was battling three soldiers, but they were hemming her in. Bernie was limping, but still fighting with deadly accuracy. Four was kneeling behind a felled tree, pressing a hand to his side to try to stem the bleeding. They needed him. Cocking his gun, he put the car in drive, and shot forward.

He had time for one quick prayer, a smile on his face as confusion gave way to fear on the four soldier's faces, and then he had slammed through the two cars and pushed the wreckage of the third somersaulting through the clearing. The four soldiers knew exactly what hit them before their bodies were reduced to ash.

Stepping out of the car, he cocked his gun and leveled it at a soldier, the report ringing through the burning trees, the heat of the inferno around him scorching his skin and searing his hair. BLAM. Another bullet reduced another soldier to ash, and a well hurled knife felled a third. Six looked genuinely happy to see him, and Four looked on as if he didn't believe he was here.

"You can't get rid of me _that _easily."

Six

He had survived. He hadn't been chopped up into little pieces. He hadn't suffered a cruel death. And he looked pretty good, a shotgun in one hand, a hunting knife in the other, fire raging behind him. With renewed vigor, she slashed and stabbed, disappearing only to appear behind the enemy to deliver a fatal blow.

The numbers of their soldiers were falling. Now they were down to thirteen. Twelve. Eleven. They had been dealt a hard blow when Sam had taken out the shooters. Sam was edging toward Four, taking another knife out of his belt, his skin gleaming with blood and sweat.

_Praise be to Lorien_.

On she fought.

Sam

He reached John, who was now staring up at him with an awed expression on his face. What the fuck?

"_What_ are you _doing_?"

John looked stunned. "S….Sam. They said. They said you had been killed…I….I"

He rolled his eyes. "Do I look dead to you? Besides, when they make this whole thing into a series of movies, I'd like to be in more than just the first." He looked down at John, who had moved his eyes down to his own wound in his side. "Stop fooling around. Are you a Lorien or not? Heal yourself and get back on your feet. We need you."

John steeled himself, and then a flash of bright blue light enveloped John's side. He almost wished that John would now do the same to his whole body. But oddly enough, he didn't feel a goddam thing. He felt like he could fly. Probably adrenaline. Whatever.

"Come on. This is war. Time to draw some blood."

Four

The battle improved, for a while, after Sam's arrival. The soldiers were completely taken off guard by the arrival of a mere human. Even more so after evaluating the fact that said human had already taken out six of them. Hadley was having a pleasure full time stomping on the soldiers fleeing from him. A few shot at him, but their aim was terrible in their fear. For the first time, a flicker of fear crossed the commander's face.

That was until two transport trucks that looked like armored vehicles stopped up the hill to the clearing, the doors banging and straining as the soldiers rushed them in their eagerness to draw blood. There had to be twenty in each truck. They would be outnumbered and systematically destroyed. It wouldn't take much time until this was over. But there was nobody around that would be able to help them. They were completely alone. The only fact that could save them was that it would take time to get through the forest fire to the clearing. Enough time perhaps that they could destroy the commander and demoralize the troops. But there had to be an easier way.

And then he had a bright idea.

_Animals of the forest! We need your help. These beings we are fighting have two aims in mind. One is the complete destruction of my people, and then the enslavement and destruction of the humans. Their second aim is not just the complete annihilation of living Earth, but also the complete destruction of the ecosystem. You, your family, and your homes will be destroyed if they win. Please. Please help. Their deaths mean that we can continue on peacefully living. Please! We will not last if you do not support us. _

It took a few minutes. And while he fought he tried to relay the message throughout the forest through flashes of images. It was hard. In fact, he was gasping when he finally gave up his effort in favor to the immediate fight for his life. At first, while the minutes ticked away he thought that his message had fallen on deaf ears. But then there was a slight movement behind him. And then the forest exploded.

Buck, wolves, and mountain lions exploded from the left side of the clearing, weaving between Sam and Six and Hadley and leaping with barred teeth at the soldiers. From the right, Foxes, bears, and every kind of bird he could imagine erupted. The bears went toward the commander and one of the new arriving forces of soldiers blasting their way toward the clearing; the foxes scratched their way to the top of the log and began to hiss, leaping onto the thick shoulders and scalps of passing soldiers before clawing and biting them, drawing blood. The birds began to dive bomb, raking and scratching the soldiers, trying to blind them.

Total chaos reigned in the isolated area of the forest. He was sure the fire was sweeping down the mountainside. By now, the town thirty miles away had to have seen the glowing doom. From the breaks he had between confrontations he could see the animal's fierce fighting. The bears had been joined by some of the bucks and mountain lions as their initial numbers had been decimated. A few soldiers were firing blinding up into the sky to stop the waves of birds. Hawks and owls had joined their ranks, and the sound of crows and geese meant that another wave was coming. He watched as the swooped and dived, weaving around the energy balls as they drew nearer to the scum firing up to them.

Sam was limping now as he parried blows from a Mogadorian blade with his own hunting knife. The Mogadorian was becoming aware that he was favoring his left leg. But before he could do anything, Six had materialized out of nowhere and had run the soldier through with her blade. Sam gave her a quick nod, which produced a hurt look from Six before she turned and ran back into the crowd.

Great piles of ash lay on the ground, although a steady wind was forming in the clearing as the hot air from the fire met the cold mountain air. A fire tornado appeared briefly in the center of the fight, striking a solider where it stood before dissipating; reappearing along the outer edge of the clearing, moving to the entrance and exit of the encampment. Six was using the burning forest to her advantage; balls of fire shooting out to consume her opponents as they swarmed toward her. And meanwhile, the blood was turning the dirt to mud. A shot of his lumen took out a row of soldiers running toward him, and then suddenly he turned to find that there were only six or seven soldiers left. The animals were ripping and tearing at the soldiers, no longer caring for their own safety. The commander was looking bewildered. The anger that was manifesting on his face made every blow so much more worth it.

Six

There were three in front of her. After that, the commander. On her left, a battalion of animals were charging at a group of soldiers. Behind her, standing on the trunk of the burning Hickory, Sam was shooting off rounds of his gun into the heads of soldiers. Four was taking out the remaining soldiers on the other side of the trunk.

A sudden ball of energy shot toward her and she dodged, along with the soldiers. Sam wasn't so lucky. The energy hit the base of the trunk above which he was standing on, and he and a group of foxes went flying backward and into the forest. A group of animals ran to protect him further. Hadley was attacking the commander now, who she realized had shot the energy ball at Sam to stop him from doing any more damage to his dying fleet.

Everything in her told her to run after Sam, but her rationale told her that Four and Bernie Kosar needed her to be with them. The growls and yelps of the animals was heart breaking as they fought for their forest and their families. And Four's anger was becoming apparent as he slaughtered soldier after soldiers, slicing them into pieces with a large, jagged piece of metal he had taken from the frame of the wrecked Mogadorian car.

The battle was coming to an end. They were going to all live. For the first time, she let hope enter her and with a few final movements, she was able to kill off the last opponents. Four was quickly ending the lives of the remaining soldiers. Sam was safe. The commander was trapped between the burning forest and a snarling Bernie Kosar. All seemed to be according to plan. Concentrating on the fire, she made a cage around the commander, who snarled at them as they drew closer. Sam's body lay a few feet from the smoldering tree trunk, a safe distance from anything the commander could do.

Coming up next to him, they smiled at him, hatred in their eyes.

"You lost."

He snarled. "You may have won the battle, but we WILL win the war. It is inevitable."

Four shook his head. "You are delusional. You will die. And so will the rest of your people if they try to attack us. We are gathering. We will destroy you."

The commander laughed again. "That pathetic human will slow you down if he lives."

"If he lives? You will not hurt him. He has proven himself."

"Maybe stupid Lorien scum. But do not be deceived in thinking those wounds were caused by _this_ battle."

Six turned a frightened head toward Sam, who lay on the ground. He looked so fragile and broken, surrounded by a mountain lion, a bear, and a legion of foxes.

"Tell us. Where is your base? You do not just run around the country looking for us. You have bases where you keep supplies, monsters, and soldiers. Perhaps even _stolen _Lorien technology."

"You are pathetic if you think I will tell you. You will be crushed. We are following nine and five. We have killed one, two, and three. You will not be allowed to further come together."

"Well. I guess you'll just have to watch what happens from hell."

And then before Six could move, John had shot a beam of light into the weapons belt on the commander, and before she could even shout the commander had exploded, pieces of flesh raining down onto the ground.

Turning quickly from the fading cage of fire she charged to Sam, falling on her knees when she reached his seemingly lifeless body. The animals around him backed off, but did not leave the clearing like she thought they would. She examined him then, growing paler and weaker than ever as she saw his broken ribs and shattered nose. When she observed his broken and swelling right arm and felt the severed bone in his ankle. Four, who she hadn't realized was even behind her, looked just as sick when he kneeled down next to him.

"Sam...Sam. Wake up Sam! Wake up! Please…please. You'll be ok…you'll be ok." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more, but did not care. Turning to Four she pleaded, "Help him! Help him!"

Four shook his head. "There's nothing I can do for him….his wounds are not fresh enough to be fixed by the rock. And my light only works for Loriens. I….I…can't…"

"We….we have to take him to a hospital…please John he can't be dead…."

He turned a hated glance at her. "Why? You've done nothing but complain about him since you met him. Why do you suddenly care? Why should you suddenly feel the need to save him? Feeling guilty?"

She looked furious and heartbroken. Tears welled in her eyes, and a few silent drops slid down her flushed cheeks. "Hate him? I…I have _NEVER_ hated him. Not once."

"Then why did you push him away like that? Why did you try to make him leave? Why were you such a bitch to him?"

She shook her head, running her fingers through his head. "Please John…I did it to protect him. I…I love him"

It was a blow to the chest, and yet it confirmed everything he was suspecting. Six had found her love in Sam. That's why this had been happening. He slowly nodded his head, eyes continually surveying Sam. "We can't take him to a hospital here. They have to know now that we were here. Mogadorians will pour into this area soon. We have to go somewhere we won't be expected to go."

She looked up, her eyes wide.

"Paradise, Ohio."

"That means…."

"We're going home."

**They there guys! I'm sorry for the haitus. It really wasn't on purpose. I knew how I wanted this to go, but I couldn't find the words. I'm glad they finally came. Let me know how you thought it went. I hope it did well considering it hasn't been updated in over half a year. It will be a while in between updates since I'm in college right now, but hopefully now that winter break starts in three weeks I'll be able to write up a storm. :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**So…I think the first thing I need to do is apologize for my hiatus. I didn't intentionally do this at all, time just sort of escaped me and then I got another nasty case of writers block. Then my friend finished his book so I've been busy helping him get that all ready to be released this summer…so really I haven't had much time with college and my social life to sit down and write a chapter. I'm going to make a promise to NOT go on another hiatus that is this long, though I can't promise that regular weekly updates can take place since I have a few other stories that I need to work on/ wrap up and I don't get out of school till mid-May. I hope my delay hasn't caused any of our readers to leave the story. I am sorry that you guys had to wait—I know I hate waiting for a story to be updated. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lorien Legacies, its characters or its plot. That belongs to Pittacus Lore. I only own my own plot. **

John

The drive back to Paradise was tense. He and Six hadn't spoken one word to each other since they had quickly assessed the truck back in the clearing and reoriented it back onto the narrow mountain road. Sam's light body lay draped over his legs in the passenger seat, and he cradled his limp and broken body into his own strong chest, trying to keep Sam awake. Although Six was driving way above the speed limit on twisting roads and highways, he still caught her searing gaze sweeping over Sam's body, making sure he was still alive; still breathing through his injuries. The blood had long stopped flowing out of him, and while at first he had tried to wipe off the dried mess caking his skin, the new blood that flowed out to take its place had quickly put a stop to that.

During the course of their drive, they hadn't stopped unless absolutely necessary, and only then in secure locations; a deserted 24/7 gas station, an empty grocery store, a quiet public rest stop. They had only stayed for a few minutes, during which time they would take turns watching Sam while they did their business and ate. They had learned after the first day that Sam's body couldn't handle solid food, however, that had been only after he had painfully regurgitated the small amount that had been painfully swallowed. Now he was only drinking fluids—and most of the water poured into his mouth dribbled out and onto him instead.

As pale and broken as Sam looked back in the deserted clearing, he now looked twice as worse, and he knew that if Sam was not back in Paradise where Sarah and Mark could help him receive proper care, Sam would only last another day. And though he hadn't spoken this aloud, Six seemed to know that as well. Her driving was becoming more reckless as they approached Ohio, and he was just happy that they had changed their appearance before while they were in Canada so that any police officer that might pull them over would not immediately report them to the FBI.

His heart pounded in his chest as they got closer and closer. The thought of Sam not making it made his heart beat irregularly and a lump form in the back of his throat. However, the thought of seeing Sarah also had him nervous, and he found that he was having trouble staying still for long periods of time as they drew nearer to her. The thought of holding her in his arms and being reassured that she was safe and secure seemed like the best thing in the world. But after that thought he would feel guilt. Sam was not ok. Six could not glean comfort by holding Sam.

….

It was a rainy Tuesday when the dingy sign appeared along the side of the highway. In big letters that seemed like the most comforting phrase in the world, he observed "**Welcome to Paradise, Ohio" **out of the passenger window, and his heart leapt in his throat. Six was already slowing down, and digging around in the small center console in front of them.

"You have to call Sarah and set up a rendezvous point somewhere secure. I'm pretty sure the US Government hasn't forgotten about Paradise, Ohio John, and I don't really need to worry about you getting arrested by federal officers while Sam's blood dries on your shirt and the upholstery."

Her words were callously spoken and her eyes never left the front windshield as she started into town, but he knew she was right and when the disposable cell phone was thrust into his hand he hardly stared at it before he punched in her phone number. It rang twice.

"Hello?"

Her voice was soft and breathy. She sounded like she was in the midst of doing a monotonous activity; one that she found extremely boring.

"Sarah?" His voice sounded raw and choppy to his ears, but he heard the sharp intake of breath when she heard his voice, and then the scrape of her chair against the wooden floorboards. In the background she heard a male voice asking who it was on the phone, but she did not respond to him.

"John? Is that…is it really you?"

The television in the background flicked off, and heavy footprints on the hardwood floor could be heard coming near Sarah. "Yes Sarah. It's me. It's really me. God I've missed you." The tears pricking at his eyes made him blush, but he heard Six clearing her throat, a sign that he needed to quickly get Sarah to meet them somewhere safe so that they could help Sam.

He could hear her smile as she said, "Where are you? We got Sam's letters…Mark and I. You can't imagine how much I've missed you John. It's been so hard without you."

He nodded. "I've missed you so much too, babe. Listen…I'm near the park. Six and Sam and I."

She gasped again, and there was a murmur of voices in the background, followed by an excited swear. "Our park? You're back in Paradise?"

He nodded but then realized she couldn't see him. "Sarah listen. I need your help. Sam got hurt very badly and we need a safe place where we can hide out and get him some help. You and Mark are the only two people in this town that I trust. I need you."

Sarah gasped. "Hurt? How badly? Is he ok?"

"I…I'll tell you later. We need to get out of the open though. I'm sure there are federal agents and Mogadorians here. Six and I are taking a huge risk being here."

There was more murmuring and then a male voice was on the phone. "John. It's Mark. Tell Six to take the car and drive down Bridgeport Street. It'll take you all the way out of town, past the abandoned church. There's an empty barn house along a side road called Algonquin. The doors are always locked, but I'm sure you can take care of that easily. The doors are hidden from the road by shrubs, and the back is tucked away against a thick tree line and a cliff. You can park inside. It's far enough away from everything that anyone looking for you won't even think about it, and nobody lives that way anyway, so nobody really ever goes past it. Sarah and I will be there in ten minutes."

He nodded and repeated the information for Six, who was already turning onto Bridgeport. "Ok. We're headed there."

"Let me talk to Sam."

Mark sounded desperate and excited. He wondered if all those years of torture hadn't been a sign of infatuation. "He can't talk. He's hurt."

"How bad?"

"Bad."

Mark was scribbling something down on a piece of paper, and then telling Sarah to run upstairs and get the stuff on the list.

"Is he going to be ok?"

They turned onto Algonquin, which turned out to be a dirt road that looked abandoned. Green crab grass and shrubs were encroaching onto the road, and the trees lining the sides hung over it, creating a natural canopy that blocked the sun from reaching the ground.

"I hope so."

Mark

They were back. He couldn't really believe it, and when he had first heard Sarah say _his_ name, his heart had literally skipped a few beats. At first he had thought that he was dreaming, that he had fallen asleep during the game and that any second now he would jolt awake to find Sarah still dusting in the dining room and the Broncos still losing. That he would still be perpetually waiting for _something_ that could lead him to where John and Six and Sam were.

However, when her face had suddenly gone from surprised to rapturously happy, he knew deep down that this was no dream. On one hand, he felt a large sense of despair. His days of playing house with Sarah were over. He could no longer pretend that John had never existed; that he and Sarah were still a couple. He would have to watch Sarah race into the arms of her beloved once more. He knew that she would never turn back to give him more than a second glance, and she would never think about the possibilities that _they_ could have. And why would she? He was an alien, with amazing powers. He was just a jerk that ruined her high school career.

At the same time he had felt a jolt of elation. This was his chance. He could get out of this town and join a real adventure. Fight for a cause bigger than this provincial town or anything his father had hoped for him. He could see the world, fight actual aliens. Become a hero. He could finally prove to himself that he wasn't just some asshole that picked on those happier than he and that he could actually do something meaningful, not just for himself but for others. He wouldn't have to pretend like nothing had happened, or do his math homework and play football and laugh at stupid jokes that he didn't really find funny.

And he would get to see his friend again; because really, that was exactly what Sam had become to him in the short time that he had been away. Of course, there was still the giant elephant in the room. He had made Sam's life hell ever since he could remember. He had never ever been nice to him…not before John had arrived. But he was hoping that along the way on this adventure, they could mend their relationship and move on. Sam was a one of a kind person. He had never pretended to be something that he wasn't and it looked as if he never judged someone for their faults or past transgressions. He had never had a friend like that. All of his buddies would have abandoned him if he acted the way he wanted to. He had never actually had a _real_ friend in that way. And he wanted one. Sam could potentially be that friend. He was tired of feeling like he had to pretend, like he had to act a part when he was around others. He coveted a relationship like the one Sam and John had.

He didn't know that his heart could flutter like it did. Or that he could care about another person besides Sarah. However, when he heard that Sam was badly hurt, his mind went into overdrive and his heartbeat started to increase. Tearing a piece of paper out of a stray notebook on the dining room table, he scribbled quickly the medical supplies that they would need to try to help Sam, while simultaneously giving directions to the safest place that he could think of for them to stay. It wasn't the most secure place in Paradise, but it would have to do for now. They would worry about food and water and clothes and heat later. The car ride had been awkward. Neither he nor Sarah had been able to find the words to talk to each other about what was going to happen. They were both too anxious and excited to make small talk—even if they could.

Now they were nearing the barn, the plastic bag holding all the medical supplies he could think of shifting between Sarah's knees. Music was blasting through the speakers, but he wasn't paying attention, his thoughts solely on the fact that he was so close to John and Sam and Six. So close to being a part of something once more.

Six

The hay in the barn was musty, and she could hear the mice scurrying around the barn, nibbling on old rope, empty burlap sacks, and scattered, rotting seeds. Usually, she would have grimaced at the conditions, scrunched herself into a ball in the far corner, and quickly went to sleep. That was before she had met John though. Way before she had met Sam.

Sam. He was laying on a pile of hay in one of the stables meant originally for horses, his face pale and a thin line of blood escaping his mouth. He had started coughing up blood almost as soon as he had been moved when they had reached the barn, and the longer it took for the two humans to arrive, the more she fell into despair. If he died, Lorien only knew what she would do. She had heard stories from her Cepan about what happened when their soul mate died. Most of them lost the will to live. Many didn't last more than a few months; assuming that they didn't commit suicide before then. According to Katarina, when a Lorien falls in love, a powerful connection is weaved between the two mates, one that connects their very soul and heart. When one of the two die, the connection is severed, and the heart and soul, accustomed to the warmth and deep connection that had existed for so long begins to fade and brake down. The result: the death of the remaining love.

As much as she wasn't afraid of death, she was afraid, deep down, of a life without Sam. Her will to fight this war had been changed when she had met him. From the time of the devastating massacre of her people, her only objective was revenge for her people. But, after spending time with Sam, knowing Sam, loving Sam, it had changed to the desire to keep Sam safe. If they failed, Earth and the Human race was doomed. And that would mean the enslavement or death of every single human being.

The sudden movement of the barn doors being thrown open has her up in seconds, the Mogadorian weapon she stole years ago cocked and aimed, her finger grazing the trigger. If it was an enemy, they would be dead seconds after she saw them. If they were the two humans….well then she would lower the gun. Never mind an apology to them. She was involved in a war. They would have to realize certain precautions needed to be taken.

"Sarah!"

She whipped her head to the right to see John race toward Sarah from the horse stable, who was beaming, her eyes glassy with her unshed tears. They were in each other's arms seconds later, and they were laughing and happy and kissing each other. Big wet kisses with damp cheeks and rosy faces. The other human was carrying a plastic bag, but the look of jealousy and sadness in his eyes told her that he was not over the girl. His eyes met hers, and he hefted the bag up for her to see.

"Where is Sam? I've brought supplies. If we hurry, maybe we can stop him from dying"

That sobered the loving couple. They pulled apart, and John motioned for Mark to follow him, his grip still tight around the girls. She looked at her as she passed, then stopped and placed her hand on Johns arm. The boy was already in the stall, swearing and dropping the plastic bag, pulling up his leaves. The girl whispered to John, then kissed his cheek and pushed him into the stall, before turning and walking over to her. She sat down, and after several awkward seconds of silence, she sat down too. The girl placed her hand on top of hers.

She let it stay.

It wasn't that she didn't want to go back and be with Sam as they worked on him. It was that she couldn't bring herself to watch them try. Because she knew if she went back there, she would grow frustrated with their attempts. She would feel as if they were moving too slowly, and she would commander the situation, which would only cause Sam to suffer more.

So she waited.

**Tada? I know that its short, but this really is all that needed to be written for this chapter. The next one should be a lot longer, and juicier. I hope that it makes you anxious though to find out if Sam can recover. Please Read and Review for me, it makes my life to read what you have to say about my story, and I do take your ideas and comments into account. **

**Thanks for reading! Till next time! **


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